


like a firecracker

by 1000_directions



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Felching, Genuinely Just So Much Sex, Light Bondage, Like If It's A Sex Act It's Probably In This Fic, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Riding, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 06:40:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20943995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000_directions/pseuds/1000_directions
Summary: “You’re so beautiful,” Bucky mumbles against his lips. “You get me so worked up.”“That’s the point,” Clint says, sighing helplessly as Bucky’s lips trail over his neck, sucking at his pulse point until his skin is throbbing. “Go with it, babe. I just want you to use me to feel good.”“I’m gonna,” Bucky says. He licks over the tender bruise on Clint’s neck, and Clint shudders, arching into him. “I’m going to use you over and over and over.”“And over and over,” Clint says breathlessly, tangling a hand in Bucky’s hair to hold him in place against his neck.Five times Bucky came and one time Clint did.(or: Fuckfest 2k19)





	like a firecracker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LoonyLoopyLisa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLoopyLisa/gifts).

> WOW! this fic was written for lisa because her extremely generous donation was the winning bid in my charity hawktion. i was ELATED to see her name as my top bidder because she has been such a supportive and amazing member of fandom, and i was so excited that i would get to create something for her!
> 
> the initial prompt was "slight D/s where Dom bottom Bucky rides Clint until Clint cries. Bc of super soldier stamina or something Bucky comes like 3 times before he lets Clint come." that is kind of what i wrote! and kind of not at all what i wrote!
> 
> thank you cb for reading this over and helping me plot the story (to the extent that this story has anything even resembling a plot, which it does not!) and pointing out the spots that needed a little extra attention.
> 
> lisa, i hope that you enjoy this finished product as much as i have truly, truly enjoyed having this opportunity to work with you. thank you for being so patient with me, and i hope this story lives up to your expectations.
> 
> "riding" square for winterhawk bingo

The first time that Bucky stays hard after coming, Clint tilts his head to one side and inspects Bucky’s flushed cock, which is still straining towards him even as Bucky shudders through his orgasm.

“Huh,” he says, watching Bucky’s dick flex, still covered in spit and come but looking as hard and ready as ever. “So do you want me to keep going, or…?”

“You don’t have to,” Bucky says, cheeks pink. “It’ll go down.”

“_I’ll_ go down,” Clint says with a shrug before fitting his lips back around the head of Bucky’s cock.

Bucky’s head falls back with a wounded noise as Clint continues to work over him, and a few minutes later, he comes again. Clint holds Bucky’s cock in his mouth as it softens until Bucky finally swats at his shoulder.

“That was hot,” Clint says, letting Bucky’s dick fall out of his mouth as he wiggles his jaw back and forth, testing how sore he’s gonna be later. Pretty sore, he figures, but worth it for how relaxed and satisfied Bucky seems.

“Supersoldier shit,” Bucky says breathlessly. “Sometimes my refractory period is--”

“Nonexistent?”

“Something like that,” Bucky says with a small smile before reaching for Clint’s cock and showing him exactly how grateful he is.

*

It’s not like that every time. Mostly, Bucky just gets hard and comes once. Sometimes, if the foreplay is really drawn out, he doesn’t come at all, but he tells Clint that he doesn’t mind, that it still feels good, and Clint has to believe him.

But sometimes, he comes a lot. They stop after three, because Bucky starts feeling guilty about taking so long, and Clint is okay with that limit because he doesn’t want Bucky to feel uncomfortable or embarrassed. But it’s fucking hot, watching Bucky get hard and stay hard, watching him come and keep coming. His pleasure is so, so fucking sexy to watch, and even though Clint knows it has nothing to do with him, that it’s just some quirk of Bucky’s physiology, it’s still a bit of an ego boost to know he can make Bucky come so hard and so often. Supersoldier shit is weird and sexy and unpredictable, but it’s _theirs_, and the two of them are figuring it out together.

They figure out other shit, too. Like how much Clint loves being teased and played with and denied and overstimulated. Like how protective Bucky can be, and how Clint finds a thrilling sort of safety in submitting to him sometimes. They’re crazy about each other, and they balance each other, and Clint finds that there’s a delicious and unexpected intimacy in opening up to someone he knows will always be gentle and careful with him. Someone he can trust, even with his weirdest and most personal and embarrassing shit.

They’re in love. Clint is so, so in love. He never knew he would be.

One night, they’re lying in bed together, cuddled up and kissing lazily. Bucky had fucked Clint until he came inside him, twice, and Clint is feeling used and easy and vulnerable in a way that he really, really likes. Bucky’s arms are powerful around him, and it’s safe for Clint to let down his guard and open his mouth and just float in Bucky’s secure embrace.

“You all right, sweetheart?” Bucky murmurs against Clint’s lips, stroking his warm fingers up and down Clint’s back. Clint preens under his touch, crowding in closer to rest his cheek on Bucky’s chest.

“I’m perfect,” Clint whispers. “Feel so good right now.”

“You’re sure it wasn’t too much?” Bucky’s voice is so soft, and his fingers are gentle on Clint’s hot skin, and Clint loves him so much he can’t bear it.

“You’re never too much for me,” Clint says, kissing Bucky’s collarbone. “Could’ve kept going if you wanted to.”

“Oh, so you’re saying it wasn’t enough for you?” Bucky teases, scratching his nails lightly down Clint’s back. “Did I not satisfy you fully?”

“I’m very fucking satisfied,” Clint mumbles. He nips at Bucky’s skin, feeling the vibrations of Bucky’s laughter beneath his cheek. “Just saying, I can take more. I can take as much as you can give me.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course.” Clint licks carefully over the faint bite marks he’s left on Bucky’s shoulder. “What’s the most times in a row you’ve ever come?”

“Four,” Bucky says, trailing one metal finger lazily up and down Clint’s spine. “You want me to give you four sometime?”

“I want to give _you_ four,” Clint says. “No, wait. Five. I wanna give you five. Or I want you to take five.” He shakes his head, already feeling a little hazy at the thought of letting Bucky use his body to get off so many times in a row. “I mean, I want to have sex with you until you come five times. Because of me. And I want to wait until you have all five before I come.”

“That’s a lot of times,” Bucky says. His hand dips lower until his finger is resting just above Clint’s well-used hole, tantalizingly close to his rim, and Clint squirms happily. “You think you could take all that, baby?”

“You could use me lots of ways,” Clint says breathlessly. “You could fuck me and ride me and let me suck you. Anything you wanted. Whatever would get you off. Over and over until--”

“Until what?” Bucky murmurs, palming Clint’s ass.

“Until I was the most,” Clint says quietly. “I want you to come with me the most.”

Even just saying it out loud feels kind of silly and petty, because he knows Bucky loves him and loves their sex life. It’s just that sometimes his competitive nature gets all braided up with his own personal insecurities, his concerns that maybe he’s not trying enough, not doing enough, maybe he should be something more, something different, something better. It’s fucking stupid, he _knows_ it’s fucking stupid, but he just needs to be the best for Bucky in any and every way he can be, every chance he gets.

“You know I didn’t come all those times with someone else, don’t you?” Bucky asks softly, tipping Clint’s chin up with a gentle finger. “That was me by myself, before I knew you. Bored and horny and confused and trying to figure my shit out.”

“I know.” Clint can’t help but look into Bucky’s eyes at this angle, and the depth of feeling that he sees there is almost unbearable. It’s crazy, to be cared for and adored and loved so much. “I’m being stupid.”

“You’re not being stupid,” Bucky says. “I just don’t want you to be jealous over nothing.”

“I’m not,” Clint says. He smiles crookedly at Bucky. “I’m just hot for you and the idea of us pushing our limits together.”

“Think I’d be pretty hot for that, too,” Bucky concedes with a small smile that Clint absolutely has to kiss.

*

They have discussions about it over the next few weeks, sometimes lighthearted and teasing, sometimes more serious. Bucky likes to talk about Clint’s boundaries until there’s no shyness or hesitation left, until it becomes brutally unsexy and practical, something he can memorize and internalize.

Clint trusts Bucky, knows he’d never hurt him. And a part of him always wants to insist that it’s unnecessary to discuss everything so much in advance. Bucky knows him so well. Bucky _knows_ him. But establishing clear boundaries in advance is important to Bucky, and Clint has to admit that he appreciates it, too. He loves that he can let go completely, just switch off his brain and submit, completely trusting that Bucky will keep him perfectly safe and cared for.

And so maybe it’s the antithesis of being spontaneous and romantic, but they just make a decision to do it, and they set a date in advance and mark it on the calendar and everything. And Bucky teases about making sure they both have a big breakfast that day, says he’s going to start doing extra reps at the gym to make sure his endurance is up, and it’s silly and it’s stupid, but Clint likes it anyway. And then Bucky does other things without drawing attention to it, like buying new sheets, like stocking up on Clint’s favorite post-coital snacks, like arranging for Kate to take Lucky for the weekend, and the forethought that Bucky is putting into it all makes Clint feel warm and special and cared for.

And then before Clint knows it, he and Bucky are making out on their bed, and the new sheets are so clean and soft against his skin as the perfect weight of Bucky’s body presses him down into the mattress. He wriggles happily beneath Bucky, feeling contained and closed in, and every place that their bodies meet feels electric to him. His arms are looped loosely around Bucky’s neck, and all he has to do is just open his mouth and receive.

“You’re so beautiful,” Bucky mumbles against his lips. “You get me so worked up.”

“That’s the point,” Clint says, sighing helplessly as Bucky’s lips trail over his neck, sucking at his pulse point until his skin is throbbing. “Go with it, babe. I just want you to use me to feel good.”

“I’m gonna,” Bucky says. He licks over the tender bruise on Clint’s neck, and Clint shudders, arching into him. “I’m going to use you over and over and over.”

“And over and over,” Clint says breathlessly, tangling a hand in Bucky’s hair to hold him in place against his neck.

“I’m gonna fuck you first, if that’s okay,” Bucky says, pushing up on his forearms to look down at Clint. “Just get you all loose and open for my cock.”

“Please,” Clint says, licking his lips. “God, _please_.”

“What are the rules?” Bucky asks, pulling back just enough to reach for the lube on the bedside table. It’s barely any distance at all, but Clint’s body fucking _misses him_. Jesus, he’s horny.

“I don’t come until you come,” Clint says, running his palms lightly over Bucky’s back, feeling the strength and tension of his muscles. “Not until you come five times.”

“And if it’s too much, you tell me,” Bucky says seriously, and Clint nods.

“It won’t be,” he insists. “But I’ll tell you if I need to stop.”

“I love you,” Bucky says softly.

He kisses Clint’s lips so, so sweetly before scooting farther down the bed. Clint spreads his legs in anticipation, pulling his knees towards his chest, trembling from how turned on he is. He’s so ready to get fingered, and he’s so ready to get fucked, as many times as Bucky wants.

“I want you to have a good time, okay?” Bucky says, his breath tickling the skin of Clint’s inner thighs. A moment later, Clint lets out a small whimper as he feels Bucky easing one slippery finger inside of him. God, he’s greedy for this. He wants it so bad.

“Open me up,” Clint says, his voice almost a whine. “I want you inside me.”

“That’s what I’m doing, sweetheart,” Bucky says, sounding amused.

Clint feels Bucky’s free hand slide firmly up the back of his thigh, pushing his leg closer to his chest, and he breathes in and out and stares at the ceiling as Bucky slips a second finger inside him. As impatient as he is to be _ruined_ on Bucky’s cock, he likes this part of it, too. He likes being worked open, being fussed over and cared for. Bucky is always so gentle, so careful, never rushing, always making sure that Clint is perfectly prepared and ready for whatever is coming next.

And part of him likes the anticipation, too. Likes the tease of getting not quite what he wants, never quite enough, until all at once Bucky switches things up a little, adds another finger or twists them in a way that’s devastating and perfect. He loves the sweet, drawn-out torture of waiting for Bucky to drive him out of his mind.

It seems to take forever by the time that Bucky is slipping out his fingers and crawling back up Clint’s body with his hair falling across his face and a rakish smile that makes Clint whimper, because fuck, his boyfriend is so handsome that he can’t even stand it sometimes.

“Hi,” Clint says, brushing Bucky’s hair out of his eyes, tangling his fingers in the strands to pull his face close enough so he can crane his neck and steal a small kiss.

“Hi there,” Bucky murmurs against his mouth. Clint’s lips part for his tongue, and he lets Bucky kiss him, lets Bucky push his thighs apart and settle his body heavily onto Clint’s. And then he feels the pressure of Bucky’s cock against his hole, just dragging back and forth, teasing him, and Clint sucks on Bucky’s tongue, greedy for anything he can take but wanting more, more, more, fuck, he just needs something _inside_ him, and he almost feels like crying by the time that Bucky finally, finally pushes in.

“Oh god,” Clint whispers, blinking back tears that are suddenly right there on the brink of falling.

“You feel nice,” Bucky says softly as his cock drives deeper into Clint’s eager body.

And then he’s back to kissing Clint, and Clint just blinks and blinks, holding his eyes open so the tears won’t fall, and he kisses Bucky back and doesn’t cry, he _doesn’t_. He kisses Bucky and kisses him and kisses him, wrapping his legs around Bucky’s back and kissing him, and he kisses him and kis--

“Are your _eyes open_?” Bucky asks in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Clint says, blinking again. “I guess? I don’t know.”

“Close your eyes when I kiss you,” Bucky says before gently biting Clint’s lower lip. “That’s creepy.”

“Okay,” Clint says softly, closing his eyes and letting out a shuddery breath as he feels Bucky’s lips brush over each of his eyelids in turn. “That tickles.”

“You’re gorgeous,” Bucky says, punctuating his words with a sudden thrust of his cock that shoves Clint a few inches up the bed. Clint keeps his eyes shut, looping his arms more securely around Bucky and holding on, ready to be moved wherever Bucky wants to put him.

“Fuck me,” Clint says, his voice hoarse and pleading. “Use me to feel good, babe. I’m not going to come. Just use me.”

He’s barely finished speaking when Bucky fucks into him again, deep and demanding, and Clint yelps from the shock of it.

“Shit, was that okay?” Bucky asks immediately. “Too much? Did I hurt you?”

“Just surprised me,” Clint says breathlessly, hitching his leg higher around Bucky’s waist and pulling him deeper. “I liked it. Keep going.”

And then he doesn’t say anything else, just holds on as Bucky fucks into him again and again. It feels good, he’s _full_ and happy, and some of Bucky’s strokes graze his prostate just right, even if it’s only incidental. Bucky is chasing his own orgasm and Clint is just there, a willing hole for him to fuck into, and Clint loves it. Bucky lowers his head to Clint’s shoulder and grunts and ruts into him, and Clint fucking _loves it_.

“So good,” Bucky pants into Clint’s neck, and Clint flushes with pride, clenching down on Bucky’s dick. He’s only half-hard himself, but he can tell that Bucky is close, and he wants to help push him over the edge.

“Come in me,” Clint begs, dragging his ragged nails down Bucky’s back, and Bucky hisses and loses his balance just a little, driving him unexpectedly deeper into Clint, which makes both of them moan.

Clint digs his heels roughly into Bucky’s lower back, coaxing him even closer, and Bucky settles heavily on top of Clint, eyes squeezed shut as he curses and grinds deep inside of Clint as he starts to come.

“That’s it,” Clint says soothingly, rhythmically clenching down and then loosening around Bucky’s cock, milking him through his orgasm. He feels Bucky spilling inside him and he fucking relishes it. “Fill me up.”

Bucky whimpers, breathing hot and damp against Clint’s chest as he ruts into him a few more times before his whole body goes slack. Clint traces gentle fingers through Bucky’s sweaty hair, cooing at him and scratching at his scalp. It’s unusual for Clint to still be so together after being fucked so thoroughly, but Bucky typically focuses on Clint’s pleasure instead of chasing his own orgasm like this. It’s unusual for Bucky to be the one who’s so undone after coming, but Clint knows Bucky will regain his composure soon, and he suspects his own self-control is going to unravel rapidly with whatever Bucky has planned for him. He is going to use this moment to soothe Bucky, to comfort him and care for him before Bucky inevitably shatters him into a million, billion pieces.

“That was nice,” Clint murmurs, kissing Bucky’s damp hairline. “Was that nice for you?”

“Very nice,” Bucky says, smiling up at Clint, and he’s already looking more together and refreshed, goddamn supersoldier stamina. Bucky’s hand trails down Clint’s body to cup his half-hard cock, and Clint squirms happily under his attention. “You did such a good job for me, baby, but I think I neglected you a bit. I’m going to make sure you’re very, very well taken care of.”

“Okay,” Clint whispers, his heart rabbiting at the idea of them doing this four more times before he’s allowed to come. He’s not sure he’ll survive if Bucky actually starts focusing more directly on his pleasure throughout it, but he’ll gladly die trying.

“Count them out for me,” Bucky says, gently easing his dick out of Clint.

“One,” Clint gasps as Bucky’s cock drags along his tender rim. “That was one, Bucky.”

“One,” Bucky confirms. He captures Clint’s hand in both of his and gives it a squeeze. “You stay right here for me, okay? Don’t move.”

“Okay,” Clint says. He consciously focuses on letting his muscles relax, because he has a feeling that Bucky is going to be running the show from now on, and all he’ll have to do is follow along and go wherever he’s moved.

“I’m gonna go get cleaned up,” Bucky says, looking directly into Clint’s eyes. “And then I’m going to come back here and fuck your face, if that’s okay with you.”

“It’s okay,” Clint says hurriedly, his dick twitching with anticipation. “It’s good. It’s perfect.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Bucky says, brushing a kiss to the back of Clint’s hand, and it makes Clint so fucking weak, the way Bucky can be so dirty and so romantic in the same breath. “You just stay here and think about how messy and loose your hole is, and when I get back, you can tell me if you want me to put a plug in you or not. Your choice.”

“Okay,” Clint says again. It feels like the only word he knows anymore, but he trusts Bucky, and everything is okay, okay, okay.

Bucky kisses Clint’s hand again and grins at him, and Clint only has a moment to register that Bucky’s still hard before he’s turning around and walking over to the bathroom. Clint exhales slowly and looks up at the ceiling, and he listens to the sound of running water while he does what Bucky asked him to.

He thinks about how well fucked he is, and he clenches as best he can, trying to keep Bucky’s come inside him while he makes his decision, but he still feels a little bit dribble out, trickling down his crack. And it feels so dirty to be here alone, feeling Bucky leaking out of him, and part of him wants to get up right now and clean himself up. But a bigger part of him loves it, loves the way he’s so messy and depraved right now, well-fucked and used and waiting to be fucked and used more. He’d love a plug, something to clench down on and make him feel full and stretched and pushed to his limits, but he thinks he’ll love this more. He was a hole for Bucky to fuck into, and now Bucky’s done with that hole and moving on to the next without even cleaning up his mess, and Clint feels so deliciously sinful and shameless, and he loves how it feels.

When Bucky comes back into the room, Clint is about to vibrate out of his skin from how turned on he is, just from thinking about Bucky using him. He didn’t touch himself at all, but his cock bobs hard and lazy before him, and Bucky gives him a little squeeze as he gets back on the bed.

“Were you having fun without me?” Bucky asks, straddling Clint and then shuffling up his body.

“Was just thinking about you,” Clint said. “Like you told me to. Thinking about my hole and how well you fucked it. I don’t want a plug.”

“Are you sure?” Bucky asks. He looks over his shoulder, and then Clint feels a finger tracing up his crack and prodding at his hole, pushing some of the come back into him. “You’re leaking, darling.”

“I like it,” Clint whispers. He moans as he feels another trickle spill back out. “I like it. Don’t want a plug.”

“That’s fine,” Bucky says gently. “C’mon, get your hands on my thighs, baby.”

Clint’s muscles protest when he starts using them again, but he needs to get into position for Bucky to fuck his face, and his arms know where they need to be. Bucky scoots all the way up the bed, knees digging into Clint’s armpits, and Clint places his hands lightly on Bucky’s thighs, palms up.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Bucky says. “Now show me what you do if you need me to stop.”

Clint swallows hard and flips his hands around so his palms are flush to Bucky’s thighs. His leg hair tickles at Clint’s palms as he presses into Bucky’s quads with a gentle pressure.

“Perfect,” Bucky says. “As long as I can see your palms, I’ll keep going.”

Clint immediately flips his hands around again, palms open and waiting, and Bucky chuckles.

“Are you that eager for my cock?”

“Yes,” Clint says simply. “Yeah, please.” He licks his lips, opens his mouth as wide as he can to give his jaw muscles a gentle stretch, and then he lets his mouth go slack as he looks up at Bucky looking down at him. “Please, I’m ready.”

“Okay,” Bucky murmurs. He shifts his weight forward, grunting as he wraps his right hand around the base of his cock, hard and heavy, still inches away from Clint’s eager mouth. “If you want it, come and get it.”

Clint shivers from the tease of it, Bucky’s dick just out of reach. He cranes his neck off the bed, stretching as far as he can with the rest of his body pinned down beneath Bucky. He’s not quite close enough, so he sticks out his tongue, and fuck, he must look so wanton, so desperate, whimpering and gagging for Bucky’s cock, but he _wants_ it, and he almost feels like crying when his tongue catches the edge of Bucky’s foreskin.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Bucky says softly, shifting closer so he can tap his cockhead against Clint’s outstretched tongue before retreating just out of reach, and Clint whines and tries to chase him even though he’s already at his limit. “You’re doing so good. Show me how much you want it.”

“Please,” Clint whispers, words garbled with his tongue hanging out of his mouth but he doesn’t care, he knows Bucky understands. “_Please_.”

“Okay,” Bucky says soothingly. “If you want it that badly, darling, you can have my cock. Put your head back down so can I can give it to you.”

Clint instantly complies, letting his head fall back to the pillows as he looks up at Bucky, wide-eyed and focused, frantically sucking in air through his nose as he carefully relaxes his jaw and waits for Bucky to do anything he wants with him.

“Perfect,” Bucky says, lowering himself so he can brush the wet head of his cock back and forth over Clint’s parted lips. “You listen to me so well. Push out your tongue a little bit and hold it there for me, okay?”

Clint doesn’t say anything in response, just lets his tongue peek out from between his lips, and Bucky groans as he continues to drag his cockhead back and forth, not pushing inside yet, just getting Clint’s lips messy with his precome and letting Clint get a small taste on the end of his tongue.

“Okay,” Bucky says quietly. “Open up, sweetheart.”

Clint lets his mouth fall wide open, and Bucky tests the give of him with two metal fingers, slipping easily past his lips and feeling out the boundaries of this new hole that Clint is creating for him to fuck into. Bucky presses down lightly on Clint’s tongue with both fingers, and Clint closes his eyes and moans, relishing the taste and the weight of the warm metal. Bucky’s fingers prod at the insides of his cheeks, trace his tongue to the back of his mouth where it disappears down his throat, and Clint squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on his breath and doesn’t gag.

He keeps his eyes shut until he feels Bucky’s fingers leave his mouth, and then there’s a wet hand cradling the hinge of his jaw, and Clint opens his eyes just in time to see Bucky thrusting towards him, and he lets the drool collect in his mouth so Bucky has a warm, wet space to fuck into.

Bucky swears softly as he pushes his cock into Clint’s open mouth, and he brushes his thumb over Clint’s cheek, feeling how it bulges out from the heft of his dick, and Clint whimpers happily at the feel of finally getting filled up. He strokes his tongue gratefully over Bucky’s warm cockhead, thrilled when Bucky twitches and spurts out some precome for him to mop up.

“You’ve got my cock now,” Bucky says, voice soft and controlled, even though Clint can feel his muscles against the backs of his hands, can feel how he’s tense and trembling as he tries to hold himself still. “That’s what you wanted, right?”

Clint blinks and traces his tongue along Bucky’s foreskin, because Bucky knows that this is what he wanted, what he _wants_. 

“What do you say,” Bucky asks, starting to sound breathless, “when you get something that you want?”

“Thank you,” Clint mumbles with his mouth full of cock.

“I couldn’t hear you,” Bucky says, pressing his thumb harder into Clint’s cheek.

“Thank you,” Clint tries again. “Thank you, thank you, _thank you_.” His tongue keeps bumping into Bucky’s cock and muffling his words, and the spit is spilling past his lips, running lazily down his chin, but he needs to make sure that Bucky knows how badly he wanted this and how grateful he is to have it.

“You’re welcome,” Bucky says, and then he pushes his cock down Clint’s throat, and all Clint can do is hold his mouth open and try to breathe as Bucky uses his mouth, thrusting deep and then pulling out, over and over until Clint is shuddering and gasping beneath him, doing his best to maintain eye contact because he knows Bucky likes that when Clint’s choking on his cock. He’s drooling and gagging, and Bucky keeps looking down at his own thighs, and Clint knows he’s checking to see if Clint needs to use a nonverbal safeword but he _doesn’t_, he blinks away the tears that are starting to collect in the corners of his eyes and he sucks in air through his nose and defiantly meets Bucky’s eyes because he doesn’t need to stop, he can take anything that Bucky wants to give him.

“Thank you,” Clint tries to say again, lips stretched out and spit-soaked.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky whispers, and then he’s pulling his dick out of Clint’s mouth and resting the head against his lower lip as he quickly jacks his own shaft, and it’s barely any time at all before he’s coming, pulsing warm and wet against Clint’s lips, some of his come streaking Clint’s tongue, and Clint eagerly laps up whatever he can reach, licking at Bucky’s cockhead.

Bucky’s still hard. Thank _god_.

“Two,” Clint whispers, licking the come from the corners of his lips. “That was two, Bucky.”

“Jesus,” Bucky says softly. He leans back slightly so his dick slips away from Clint’s mouth, and he places each of his hands on top of Clint’s, still palm-up on his thighs. “You did amazing, sweetheart.” He squeezes Clint’s hands, and Clint squeezes back, eager to show Bucky that he’s still here and ready to keep doing a good job. He can have whatever he wants, three more times.

“What’s next?” Clint asks, his voice sounding raw and fucked-out. “What can I do for you next?”

“You’ve already done so much for me,” Bucky muses.

He slides off of Clint, and Clint misses the weight of him instantly, misses being pinned down and held in place. But Bucky lays down next to him and drapes his left arm over Clint’s chest, and Clint relaxes under the weight of his heavy limb.

“Wanna do more,” Clint mumbles. “What’s next?”

“Can I do something nice for you, sweetheart?” Bucky asks softly. He strokes his metal thumb idly over Clint’s nipple, and Clint shivers at the faint tease of his touch.

“I want,” Clint says, trying to focus through the haze in his head. “For you. Bucky, I want to, for you.”

Bucky meets Clint’s gaze, and Clint tries to say everything with his eyes that he can’t say with his uncooperative mouth. But Bucky doesn’t seem to get the message, because he leans down and laps at Clint’s nipple with his warm, gentle tongue.

“Oh,” Clint whispers, trembling from the subtle stimulation. “_Oh_.”

“You have a beautiful body,” Bucky says. He lets his hand drift across Clint’s torso until he finds his other nipple, rolling it between his thumb and middle finger until Clint squeaks. “You feel so good under my hands.”

“_I’m_ supposed to,” Clint protests weakly. “For you, Bucky. I’m supposed to do it for you.”

“Oh, you do it for me, sweetheart,” Bucky says with a chuckle, scraping his teeth lightly across Clint’s nipple as he cants his hips subtly, letting his still-hard cock brush Clint’s thigh.

“Let me,” Clint says, struggling to string his words into sentences. “Let me please you.”

“It turns me on to play with you.” Bucky’s words are so even and measured and calm, and it’s maddening. “Don’t you want me to be turned on?”

“Yes,” Clint says, confused. He wants Bucky to be happy. He wants Bucky to use him to be happy. He wants Bucky to have whatever he wants.

“I won’t play too long,” Bucky says, kissing a path down Clint’s ribs. “I know you can’t come yet. I want to make sure you can last.”

“Gonna last,” Clint says.

“I know,” Bucky says reassuringly. He crawls backwards down the bed, lower and lower until he’s eye-level with Clint’s cock. “Spread your legs for me. Let me see how loose you still are.”

Clint scrambles to comply, legs shooting out clumsily in opposite directions as he hitches his hips upwards to display himself for Bucky. He’s so shameless, and he doesn’t care, he doesn’t _care_.

“Still really loose,” Clint says, digging his fingers into the backs of his thighs. The change in angle sends another trickle of come dribbling out of his hole, and Clint whines as he feels it slide down his crack, and he can only imagine how he looks to Bucky, fucked out and open and well-used.

“Jesus,” Bucky whispers, and then before Clint can entirely grasp what’s happening, Bucky ducks his head, and Clint feels a warm, wet pressure against his rim as Bucky delicately licks up his own come where it’s leaking out of Clint.

“Oh my god,” Clint manages to say as his brain shorts out. He’s so dirty, and Bucky cleaning him up is somehow only making him feel dirtier. “Oh my _god_.”

“Really loose,” Bucky agrees before wiggling his tongue inside Clint’s hole, and Clint’s pretty sure he’s never going to catch his breath again but he keeps trying, gasping for air and blinking back tears as Bucky’s tongue lazily explores his oversensitive rim.

For a moment, Clint’s so overwhelmed that he forgets himself. He lets go of his legs and reaches for Bucky’s head, running his fingers through Bucky’s hair, petting him, trying to ground himself. Clint doesn’t even realize he’s done it until Bucky is suddenly pulling back, and Clint’s hole clenches down around nothing.

“Shit,” Clint stammers, yanking his hands away from Bucky and placing them deliberately at his side. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” Bucky murmurs. He kisses a sensitive spot on Clint’s inner thigh, then brushes his stubbled chin over the area until Clint is shivering. “I never said you couldn’t touch me.”

“But.” Clint can’t put it into words, but it feels _wrong_ in this context, touching Bucky without permission. “But.”

“Would you like me to stop you from touching me?” Bucky asks gently. “Want me to bind your arms so you don’t have a choice?”

“Yeah,” Clint breathes. “Fuck, I want that.”

“And then maybe I can sit on your face a bit,” Bucky says conversationally as he rolls off the bed to search through their toy drawer, and Clint whimpers. “You seemed to like being rimmed. I think I’d like it, too. Your pretty little tongue loosening me up.”

Bucky doesn’t specify what he needs to be loosened up for, but Clint can only imagine, and his dick jumps at the possibilities.

“I’ll do a good job,” Clint says. His tongue feels huge in his mouth, like all the blood in his body is rushing there in anticipation.

“I know you will, sweetheart,” Bucky says, coming back to the bed with a handful of scarves. “You always do a good job for me. Cross your arms, darling.”

Clint obeys immediately, lining up each of his wrists with the opposite elbow, forearms stacked on top of one another and resting loosely on his chest, and he holds still as Bucky carefully winds the scarves around his arms until they’re bound together. He can’t move them apart from each other, can only move them as one single unit to rest up on the bed above his head, and that’s _it_. He’s perfectly, deliciously trapped.

“Thank you,” Clint whispers, and Bucky gives him a lopsided smile.

“You’re welcome, beautiful,” Bucky says, gently running his thumb under each of Clint’s eyes, catching the tears there, then pressing his thumb to Clint’s lower lip. Clint eagerly sucks Bucky’s thumb into his mouth, gratefully licking his own tears off of Bucky’s skin.

Feeling helpless makes his brain get soft and fuzzy. He’s completely at Bucky’s mercy, so he doesn’t have to be present, doesn’t have to make any decisions or do anything except for what Bucky asks him to do. He can let go, and so he does.

Time skips weirdly. Bucky is smiling down at him, and then Bucky is straddling his face with his back to Clint, and then Bucky is asking him to tap on his body with his bound arms to prove that he can signal Bucky to stop if necessary, and then Bucky is settling down onto him, and then all the sound stops. He can’t really see anything, but he sticks out his tongue and licks sloppily over Bucky’s hole, feels the way Bucky’s thighs tremble around him, feels the rumbling of his moans as Clint tries and fails to poke his tongue inside Bucky’s tight, stubborn hole.

But Clint is persistent, and he’s going to do a _good job_, and so he keeps trying, moving his spit around, making the tip of his tongue small and pointy, then flat and generous, and by the time he finally manages to breach Bucky’s body, he’s so relieved and proud that he wants to cry. Except he’s already crying, he’s _been_ crying, and every time Bucky lifts off of him to give him a chance to breathe, he sucks in his air in gulps and gasps, and he breathes it back out as sobs and tears.

Eventually, the sounds and sights become less muffled and distant, and Clint dimly realizes that Bucky has shifted, that he can see the broad lines of his thighs and the generous curve of his ass. Bucky is leaning off to the left, and when he settles back onto Clint’s chest, he’s holding something. And then Clint hisses slightly when he feels something cool and wet pooling on his abs.

“Gonna slick you up,” Bucky is saying, and then he’s pushing his dick through the slippery pool of lube on Clint’s stomach, and Clint moans and whines. Bucky’s blocking his view, he can’t see what’s happening. All he can see is Bucky’s tongued-open hole and the silhouette of his thighs bracketing Clint’s upper body, and all he can hear is the filthy wet sound of Bucky rutting against his stomach.

He doesn’t know how to _help_. All he can do is just lie here and take it while Bucky humps down onto him like he’s just a pillow or a mattress. Like he’s furniture. He’s nothing, he’s just _here_, just a surface for Bucky to rub off against, and Clint’s dick twitches violently at the thought of it. Bucky’s cock rubs indiscriminately over Clint’s stomach, his hipbones, his pubic hair. He accidentally snags Clint’s bellybutton with his cockhead and they both stutter from the shock of it. He fucks right up against Clint’s neglected dick, and Clint makes a broken, involuntary noise. He’s trying to stay quiet, but he can’t. He’s _nothing_, and it’s so hot he can’t stand it.

“Gonna come,” Bucky mutters under his breath, more like he’s saying it to himself than for Clint’s benefit, because Clint isn’t even here anymore, he’s not part of the decision and he’s not part of Bucky’s orgasm when it happens, when Bucky shoots off without any further warning, striping his come over Clint’s stomach and thighs and fucking back into his own mess. Clint can still feel Bucky’s come dripping out of his hole, and now it’s all over his stomach too, and it’s filthy, and it’s perfect.

“Three,” Clint mumbles, his tongue clumsy in his mouth. “That was three.”

“You’ve got me more than halfway there,” Bucky says, sounding only the slightest bit winded. “You’re doing such a nice job for me. You’re making me feel so good.”

“Keep going,” Clint says, watching Bucky reach for the lube again, idly observing that the skin of his face feels a little stiff from the combination of tears and spit and come drying on him. “Keep coming.”

“Do you want me going or coming?” Bucky teases him, pouring out some lube and then looking over his shoulder at Clint as he brings his slick fingers to his own hole.

“Y-yes,” Clint says uncertainly as Bucky eases a fingertip inside himself. He’s fucking beautiful, the way he rolls his hips to fuck back onto his finger, the way his eyes shut and his nostrils flare just a little as he relaxes and lets himself be penetrated.

“This feels nice,” Bucky murmurs to himself, ghosting a second finger over his rim, sighing with contentment when he manages to ease it inside along the first. “Can’t wait to get filled up with your cock.”

Bucky looks sinful like this, head thrown back, his body swallowing up his thick fingers. He pushes them deeper, struggling against the tight cinch of his body, and the motion forces small, breathy noises out of him as he writhes on his own hand, trying to take himself deeper. He’s still hard, and the wet head of his cock drags over Clint’s abs as Bucky works himself open, twisting his fingers inside of himself and rocking back to meet his own thrusts. He’s gorgeous, and Clint can’t do anything to help, can’t do anything but sit here and watch.

Crying is just a fact of Clint’s existence at this point. He’s been pushed past his emotional equilibrium point, and there’s no swinging back to fine anymore. He’s toppled over and devastated, and he’s just going to cry until he comes and probably for a while afterwards. Bucky’s perched far enough down Clint’s body that he has to lift his head to get a good look at his hole, and his neck muscles are starting to cramp up from the strain, and the angle is pushing tears down his throat and making him feel woozy.

He almost says something, because he knows that Bucky would readjust for him if he asked. But he’s okay for now, and before he can say anything, Bucky is wriggling backwards, his ass swaying closer and closer to Clint’s face. Not quite close enough for Clint to reach, but close enough that his dick trails teasingly over one of Clint’s nipples, making him moan.

“Thank you,” Clint says automatically, because now he has a great view of Bucky’s fingers pistoning in and out of his tight hole.

“Not sure what you’re thanking me for,” Bucky murmurs, whimpering when he hits a good spot inside of himself that makes his dick blurt a few more drops onto Clint’s already messy skin. “Haven’t even done anything yet.”

Clint thinks to argue the point, but before he can, he feels a faint, almost demure flick of Bucky’s tongue over his long-neglected cock, and the sensation shocks him so much that he cries out, his whole body shuddering.

“Now you can thank me,” Bucky whispers, his breath tickling the oversensitive skin of Clint’s dick.

“Th-thank you,” Clint manages, wriggling uncontrollably as Bucky continues to lick delicately at his shaft.

“You’re welcome.” Bucky presses a line of small, lingering kisses along his dick, then curls his tongue to tease at the underside of Clint’s cock, fingerfucking himself all the while, and Clint is _ruined_.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he babbles, crying earnestly again. His dick hasn’t been paid any attention in _forever_, and Bucky’s glancing little teases are destroying him.

“Are you okay, baby?” Bucky asks, then swipes his tongue over Clint’s impatient cockhead, making him whine and shiver.

“So good,” Clint gasps, coughing past his tears.

“Are you going to come if I slick you up a bit, or can you stay nice and hard for me to fuck myself with?”

“Not gonna come,” Clint swears, although he has no idea how he’ll stop himself.

But Bucky told him not to, and Clint’s going to listen to him. That’s how. Sheer willpower.

Bucky’s fingers are sliding out of his body, and Clint watches the way his hole slowly, slowly tries to tighten up again, and then there’s a slippery hand wrapped around his dick, and Clint has to close his eyes and bite his lip and breathe deep and steady through his nose the best he can because Bucky’s grip is so sure and smooth. He’s not even trying to make it sexy, he’s being practical and utilitarian. He’s not trying to get Clint off, he’s just trying to slick up a toy to shove inside his ass, but somehow the impersonal nature of Bucky’s actions makes it even hotter. _Fuck_. His dick is a tool to serve Bucky’s desires.

“Here we go,” Bucky says, shuffling back down Clint’s body, pushing himself up so that he can sit on Clint’s dick, and Clint is about to leave his own body from the anticipation. Bucky’s hand is sure and almost clinical around the base of his dick, but when his cockhead finally brushes against Bucky’s loosened hole, there’s nothing impersonal or clinical or utilitarian about it. All he feels is _hunger_. He’s so scared he’ll come, but he’s so fucking desperate to _fuck_, to drive his dick up inside Bucky’s warm hole and wring all the pleasure out of both of them.

“Fuck me,” Clint whispers, straining to hold still, to let Bucky set the pace. “Let me fuck you, babe.”

“Okay,” Bucky murmurs, glancing over his shoulder at Clint, looking almost demure as he tosses his hair. He sinks down onto Clint’s dick in one smooth, tantalizing motion, and the moan Bucky lets out is so dramatic and loud that it almost feels affected. But Clint sees the tremble in his jaw, sees the fluttering of his pulse behind his ear, and he knows that these orgasms are catching up to Bucky and ruining his control like they’re ruining Clint’s.

Fuck, he _wants_ Bucky to enjoy himself.

“So good,” Clint slurs, fucking up into Bucky as much as he’s able to. “Feel so good around me, babe.

“Jesus,” Bucky breathes, rolling his hips, meeting Clint’s movements. “You’re so hard. You’re doing such a good job being patient.”

“Just wanna get you off,” Clint says. He plants his bound arms above his head and presses them down into the mattress, trying to find the leverage to thrust up into Bucky’s tight heat. He doesn’t have a lot of mobility but he wriggles and squirms, using his abs and his thighs to make it good for Bucky.

“You’re gonna get me off,” Bucky says breathlessly. He clenches down around Clint’s dick so unexpectedly that one of Clint’s legs kicks out, and Bucky moans loudly as Clint’s cock drags along his insides. Bucky swivels his hips, and Clint is biting back sobs from how _good_ it feels.

Once Bucky gets situated, he’s riding Clint hard and fast, shamelessly fucking himself and making so many satisfied, obscene noises that Clint is gonna lose his mind. He stops trying to quiet himself because he _can’t_, all he can focus on is not coming. He’s openly weeping, tears pouring down his face, and his whole body is trembling from how hard he’s trying to stay in control.

None of this is new. Clint _always_ does this. But tonight, something about his reaction makes Bucky stop, and he’s sliding off Clint’s dick without any warning and turning himself around, sitting delicately on Clint’s stomach. Clint feels the wetness of Bucky’s hole against his skin and shivers.

He doesn’t know what he wants, or maybe he just wants too much. He wants to put his mouth there, right against Bucky’s damp, stretched hole. He wants Bucky to keep riding him until he loses control and comes on Clint’s cock. He wants to stay here in this particular moment of brutal, perfect anticipation for the rest of his life, never quite coming but always almost there. He just _wants_, simply and totally. He’s consumed by his lust, and he’s crying so hard he can’t even see.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky whispers, and Clint feels the gentle brush of their bedsheets against his skin as Bucky dabs at the tears on his face with whatever is nearby. “Do you need to stop?”

“No!” Clint sobs. He wants to do this for Bucky. He wants Bucky to take everything from him.

“Just a short break,” Bucky murmurs. He ducks his head, and Clint feels the warmth of his lips brushing over his tear-stained cheeks, the smooth drag of Bucky’s tongue licking up his tears. “Breathe, darling. Just breathe for me. In and out. That’s it.”

Clint tries to reassemble himself, but he’s shattered. But he can breathe. He can do that much, for Bucky. He takes a shaky breath in, then slowly lets it out, over and over. And Bucky pets his hair and kisses his face and tells him he’s doing a good, good job. And so Clint keeps doing it, just breathing. Because Bucky is asking him to.

“Good job,” Bucky says softly. “Do you want to keep going, or is it time to stop?”

“Keep going,” Clint insists. “Do it. Please.”

“I’m going to untie your hands first,” Bucky says, and Clint shakes his head violently, because no, he wants to be bound and helpless.

“I’ll be good,” he promises. “_Please_.”

“You’re sure?” Bucky asks. “They don’t hurt? You’re okay.”

“Doesn’t hurt,” Clint says quickly. “I like it, Bucky.”

“Okay,” Bucky says, dragging a gentle thumb over Clint’s cheek, and Clint nuzzles into his touch. “You let me know if you change your mind.”

“Get back on me,” Clint begs. “Please, Bucky. Please.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, just nods, smiling down at Clint as he plants his knees on either side of Clint’s body. He handles Clint’s cock so gently as he eases it back inside of himself, and Clint watches his face as he settles down. Bucky’s yearning and desire and satisfaction are so plain on his face as he sinks onto Clint’s dick, and Clint aches to touch him, to smooth that furrow in his brow, to kiss the hinge of his jaw.

“Yes,” Bucky says softly. He begins to ride Clint again, but this time, there is something curiously sensual about it. His fingers roam over Clint’s torso, lovingly brushing over his nipples or ruffling through his chest hair. His pace is languorous and almost romantic.

It is. It’s _romantic_. And it’s devastating.

“I love you,” Bucky says breathlessly as he picks up the pace and fists his own dick. “God, I love you, sweetheart.”

And Clint knows that. But hearing it right now when he’s not expecting it, in the midst of this incongruous moment of soft intimacy, cuts him wide open, and he can’t pull himself back together, he _can’t_.

“I love you,” he says to Bucky, sniffling uncontrollably, choking on his tears. God, he’s so beautiful and powerful, the best-looking man Clint has ever seen, with the best body and the best heart, and he loves _Clint_. “I love you so fucking much, babe.”

Bucky’s face contorts, and no noise comes out of his mouth as he begins to come, his air stuttering and lost somewhere, and it feels like ages before Clint hears him moan, loud and broken and desperate. It’s unreal that Bucky is still coming after so many previous times, but he does, and it seems to last longer than all the times before, and Bucky shakes and spasms around Clint’s cock, and his fingernails dig into Clint’s chest, and Clint loves it.

It feels like ages before Bucky lets Clint’s hard cock slip out of him, and then he’s collapsing down onto Clint’s chest, smoothing his fingertips over Clint’s muscles and kissing his wet face with clumsy lips.

“Love you,” Bucky whispers into Clint’s skin.

“Love you,” Clint replies weakly. “That was four.”

“I’m untying you now,” Bucky says, and Clint doesn’t protest this time. He holds still and lets Bucky unwind the scarves from his forearms, and he’s so tired and spent and worked up that he doesn’t make any attempt to help or to reposition himself at all.

When his arms are free, he leaves them where they are. If Bucky wants them to be somewhere else, he’ll let Clint know.

“One more,” Bucky says quietly. “Almost there now.”

Bucky is still lying half on top of him, but it’s nice, feeling caged in and protected. Bucky takes one of Clint’s hands in his own, and Clint sighs, reveling in the feeling of being touched so gently.

“I need to borrow this,” Bucky says, and Clint nods. Bucky can have whatever he needs.

Bucky moves his hand, and Clint lets him, and a rush of gratitude pours through his body. He feels his fingers wrapping around Bucky’s still-hard cock, and he feels the pressure of Bucky’s palm on the back of his hand, holding him there. He’s going to help. Bucky needs him to help, and he’s so glad that even fucked out and exhausted and halfway delirious, he can still be of use.

“You don’t even need to move for me, sweetheart,” Bucky says, his voice starting to sound ragged. “You just lie there and look pretty for me.”

Clint shivers, his hand limp in Bucky’s tight grasp. He feels Bucky moving the two of them in unison, and Clint lets it happen. He lets Bucky set the pace and the pressure and all of it. Bucky needs his hand, and he can have it. He’s already had every other piece of Clint, and he can have this piece, too.

“Do I look pretty enough?” Clint whispers as Bucky moves their hands over his perfect cock. “Am I doing a good job for you?”

“You’re perfect,” Bucky chokes out, and Clint smiles and turns his head to press his lips gently to Bucky’s neck. Bucky’s cock feels alive against his palm, warm and throbbing and insistent. It wants to come, it _needs_ to come, and Clint is going to help.

He lets Bucky use him, manipulating Clint into position by tightening his grip, twisting his wrist. Clint’s hand is one more tool that Bucky wields to get himself off, and it’s barely any time at all before Bucky is groaning and coming all over their joined hands.

“Five,” Bucky whispers, and Clint trembles at his nearness. Bucky’s lips feel cool against the shell of Clint’s overheated ear. His whole body feels taut and on edge. He’s a volcano. “You gave me five, sweetheart.”

Clint doesn’t say anything at first, just closes his eyes and lets himself be held. He feels one of Bucky’s arms come around him, coaxing him onto his side, and he relaxes into Bucky’s strong embrace, tucking his wet face into Bucky’s neck. God, he’d known it was going to be five, the whole thing was his idea, but now that he’s done it, he can barely believe it. He did it. For Bucky, he did it.

“Five,” Clint says eventually, bewildered. _Five_. It doesn’t even feel possible. Holy shit.

He feels gentle, soothing fingers skating up and down his spine, and then a hand wraps around his cock, and after so long not being touched, Clint doesn’t know how to react to it. It’s all been about Bucky, this whole time, but now Bucky is touching him, and his brain doesn’t know how to process this new sensory information.

“Love this cock,” Bucky murmurs into Clint’s hair. “It made me feel so good today. Your whole body made me feel good. I’ve never felt so much before.”

Even back at the beginning, before Clint knew how to put his feelings for Bucky into words, he’s always had touch to rely on. Touch is devotion. Touch is servitude. He gives it freely, feverishly, but he barely remembers how to accept it sometimes. He whines uncontrollably at the idea that after all this, Bucky wants to give him something in return.

Clint kisses the warm skin of Bucky’s neck beneath his lips and tries to stop crying. He can’t, but Bucky doesn’t seem to mind.

“You’re so beautiful,” Bucky continues. “You’re beautiful, and you did such a good job for me today. I can’t believe you’re mine, sweetheart. How did I get so lucky to end up with someone as good as you?”

“Please,” Clint whispers. “Don’t stop.”

And Bucky’s hand keeps moving on Clint’s cock, stripping him tight and steady, just the way he likes. Clint sucks gently on Bucky’s skin. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but just enough to keep his mouth busy, to comfort him.

“You did such a good job,” Bucky says, and he twists his wrist in a way that has Clint’s toes curling. “You made me come five times. Five. That’s incredible. I can’t believe you gave me so much.”

“You deserve everything,” Clint gasps, thrusting slightly into Bucky’s tight grip. He’s allowed to do that. He’s allowed to chase his own pleasure now. Bucky wants him to. He said that Clint did a good job, and this is his reward for being so good and patient. He rubs his feet together, pleased with himself, pleased with how pleased Bucky is. He’s so warm and cared for right now. “God, your hand feels amazing on me.”

“I want you to go ahead and come whenever you want to, sweetheart,” Bucky says, and Clint feels his warm kisses on his forehead, his cheek, behind his ear. “Any time you want. I want you to feel good. You deserve that.”

Bucky wants him to come, and so...Clint does.

His orgasm feels coaxed out of him, slow and teasing at first, building so gradually that he doesn’t even realize he’s coming until it’s inevitable, unstoppable. He’s shaking uncontrollably, his entire body given over to a pleasure so sharp that he doesn’t think he’s ever going to _stop_ shaking. It almost hurts, but it doesn’t. Because Bucky is there, holding him so strongly and securely, and Clint can disappear into that and be safe. Bucky is going to make sure all his pieces end up back where they’re supposed to be. Clint shakes and cries until his voice is raw and his cock feels wrung out and his entire body aches, and Bucky just holds him and kisses him and tells him he’s good and beautiful and loved, and Clint believes him.

Time doesn’t mean anything. There’s only this moment, with Clint safe and contained in Bucky’s embrace. And Clint doesn’t know how long it lasts, whether it’s seconds or decades. But he knows he’s going to carry a piece of this feeling inside himself for a long time. He always does. Every intimate moment he shares with Bucky is something he treasures and cherishes, and all of them collect inside his understanding of who he is and what he deserves. Through Bucky, Clint is learning to be worth something. He’s learning to be okay with that.

“I love you,” Clint says eventually, when he feels like he can talk again, like he’s all the way back again.

“I love you so much,” Bucky says, and his words are so soft and sweet. And Clint registers the touch of Bucky’s hand cradling his face, and he’s happy.

He opens his eyes, and he sees Bucky staring down at him, and the love on his face is unmistakable.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks him.

“Perfect,” Clint says, feeling light and floaty and completely satisfied. “Everything is perfect, babe.”

“You’re a mess,” Bucky says fondly, and Clint smiles tiredly at him, because yeah, he is. “Let’s get you cleaned up and tucked into bed. I bet you’re exhausted.”

“Mm,” Clint agrees. He considers it and realizes that he does feel worn out. His body is tired from being used, and his heart is tired from crying. He could definitely sleep.

“I’m gonna take such good care of you tomorrow,” Bucky is saying, his lips brushing over Clint’s forehead. Clint yawns and tightens his arms around Bucky.

“Sure thing, babe,” he says, already feeling himself drifting off. “Gotta rest up a bit. Next time, I’m giving you six.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr post](https://1000-directions.tumblr.com/post/188202900969/title-like-a-firecracker-link-ao3-pairing)


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